“I said I’m straight, muthafucka. Now what you got me in here for? You said these pancakes were fire. I should’ve known yo’ white ass would be wrong.”
Laughing, Carson replied, “They are good; you just got the wrong flavor. But I wanted to talk with you about opening a business. Your name is hot right now, and we need to build off of it.”
“Open a business? Like what?”
“Anything. Club, restaurant.” He waved his hand around to emphasize restaurant.
“Strip club,” I added, smirking.
“Yes, even a strip club. Something we can put you behind and make loads of money off of it. Think of that, plus your boxing, then all the sponsorships and opportunities you’re already getting? You’d be making a lot of money, son.”
I nodded, processing his words.
“Aight. I’ll think of something.” I looked around until I saw a waitress. “Aye, can I get some different pancakes? This shit is nasty!”
Carson chuckled, shaking his head and shading his eyes out of embarrassment.
One week later…
“Damn, did you leave a cake in the oven?” Victor inquired, making me laugh.
“Nah, I just wanna get home to my girl and kids. My son is new and shit. I ain’t trying to have him walking while I’m busy up here.”
“He’s got a while before all that, but I understand.” Victor patted my back. “You went hard today, so go home and enjoy your family. ”
“Oh I will, especially Blaise.”
Smiling, Victor added, “And ignore the shit with Strauss.”
“I’m good; I ain’t tripping,” I half lied.
I ain’t really give a fuck, but a small part of me hated that some people were calling me a fucking killer. I knew they were just his die-hard fans, but he had a lot of them, and the shit was annoying. Yes, I planned to kill his ass anyway, but that murder would’ve been a secret. This public shit was aggravating. But all them pretty boy comments had ceased.
“Okay, good.”
Victor and I dapped one another up.
As I turned to leave, two men entered the building, one in a suit, the other in a police uniform.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” Victor stepped in front of me. He was always acting like a damn father. I guess because he’d been training me since I was a kid, he felt like he was.
“Cortez Khalil.” The one in the suit ignored Victor and stared right at me.
“What y’all need me for?” I asked.
“Cuff him,” the suit told his officer buddy.
“Cuff him? For what!” Victor shouted.
“What the fuck is going on?” I barked as my bag dropped and the officer in uniform pulled my hands behind my back. If I weren’t a public figure, I would beat his ass.
“Cortez Khalil, you’re under arrest for the sexual assault of Tiana Strauss.”
Huh?
Get LiT!
Download the LiT app today and enjoy exclusive content, free books, and more!
Join Our Mailing List!
Join our mailing list to get a notification when Leo Sullivan Presents has another release!
Text LEOSULLIVAN to 22828 to join!
To submit a manuscript for our review, email us at [email protected]
Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do 3 Page 33
